


Bittersweet Reunion

by curliecues



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 11:44:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7933363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curliecues/pseuds/curliecues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place during 3x02 when Bellamy finds Clarke and attempts to save her</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bittersweet Reunion

Bellamy’s heart raced as he spotted blood on a nearby pole; she was close, but she was bleeding. He had to hurry. Bellamy descended the stairs into what he didn’t know, but when it came to Clarke he didn’t exactly think rationally. With his cutlass drawn he tiptoed forward, eyes darting around taking inventory. No sign of Clarke. Then he looked forward and saw a small hand tied to a beam and his eyes lit up. His heart was thumping so loud he was pretty sure his surprise attack was ruined. Yet no looming opponent towered before him. He knew he didn’t have much time until he was found so he took a deep breath and stealthily moved towards Clarke. He came around her left side and his heart ached as he saw her gagged and bruised. Then she looked up and he saw the life in her eyes and knew that she hadn’t gone down without a fight. Her face softened as she struggled to say his name around the cloth in her mouth. He realized he wasn’t breathing and let out a shaky breath as he removed the gag. His eyes never left hers. “I’ll get you out of here.” He had no doubt of it, but Clarke did as she screamed for him to look out. Clarke’s soft features had vanished and were replaced by distress. She struggled against the barbed wire holding her back; the great Wanheda was powerless. As he was slammed to the ground Bellamy resembled a scared little boy, caught in the act of disobeying his parents. Roan didn’t seem fazed as he knelt on top of him, cutlass ready to puncture his throat. No words passed between them; there was nothing to say. Clarke made up for their lack of conversation with her urgent pleas.

“No please, please don’t.” Bellamy reached for the knife at his side but Roan beat him to it. To put it lightly, Bellamy was fucked and he knew it too. “I’ll do anything. I’ll stop fighting just please,” Clarkes voice broke as she finished, “just don’t kill him.” Still putting light pressure on Bellamy’s throat Roan glanced at Clarke, surprised at the desperation from the mighty Wanheda, although he didn’t show it. Clarke’s fearful eyes bore into Roan’s poker face and he noticed her bottom lip trembling. There was silence aside from Clarke’s labored panting and tension mounted as they realized the severity of their situation. They were at the point of no return. Roan almost smirked, the Wanheda façade deteriorating and showing a scared girl behind it, capable of feeling, quite strongly in his opinion. As if this was a game he was controlling Roan removed the cutlass and stared down at Bellamy, tilting his head at the boy who had almost broken Wanheda. He could be useful. Clarke was still panting and sighed, “Thank you.” Immediately Roan stabbed Bellamy’s right thigh, making it clear he was not a merciful captor. He had just changed his mind was all. As Bellamy’s pained screams echoed through the makeshift prison, Clarke stared horrified at his gushing wound. She was usually so calculated and could see attacks from far away but she hadn’t expected that. Her heart was still recovering from the jump it took at the sight of it. Tossing his weapons to the side Roan roughly grabbed Bellamy by his Ice Nation uniform, which Roan would gladly punish him for later, and threw him against the wall to the left of Clarke. He knew the cut was deep, blood was still pouring out of it, and surely this boy wasn’t stupid enough to attempt an escape. So, there was no need to restrain him. This fact made Bellamy’s head hang low, disappointed and angry at himself for letting this prick get the better of him. Clarke anxiously tried to get Bellamy’s attention, but he was getting weaker from the loss of blood. He tried to move his leg and groaned. It was so guttural Clarke let a tear escape her eye. Suddenly furious she whipped her head towards Roan. “If you leave him like this he’ll die. Let me treat him and then you can hold him for ransom too.”

“Clarke what are you doing?” She was bartering his life away, ironically to save his life in the short term. What was she getting at? Roan seemed to understand as he glanced between the two Sky People, yet again on the edge of a smirk. It seemed the scared girl had a brain and picked up his plan. Clarke then added, “It’s a larger profit for you in the end. Wanheda and one of the best fighters of Skaikru, with barely a scratch on you.” Then an almost playful twinkle appeared in her eyes as she said, “well, maybe a couple scratches”. Bellamy couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Had she no desire for her safety? She was egging on her captor, who proved to be pretty fucking terrifying, and just in the last fifteen minutes. Roan walked towards Clarke with heavy footsteps and Clarke’s playful twinkle put itself out. He bent his knees and stared at Clarke, deciding the best way to punish her.

“Don’t hurt her. Hurt me!” Both Roan and Clarke turned towards Bellamy, both of them forgetting he had a voice of his own. Clarke again looked horrified.

“Bellamy no you’re too weak.” Bellamy’s eyes met hers, the longing for a safer circumstance apparent in both their stares. Then Bellamy looked away from her. “No Bellamy, no!” Clarke pleaded but he tuned her out. He addressed Roan,

“Listen, if its money you want, then you need her in one piece. Whoever wants her won’t take her if she’s dead.” Roan raised an eyebrow at the sudden punch behind the boy’s words.

“Yeah, and how do you figure that boy?”

“Because to absorb her powers you need her alive. If you bring her back dead, they’ll assume you have it and they’ll do a lot worse to you than a knife to the leg.” Clarke gaped at Bellamy, surprised at his quick thinking. Roan was silent, impressed that he knew about his people’s belief system.

“So let’s say you’re right and I can’t hurt her,” Roan began approaching Bellamy and Clarke began pleading once again. She knew where this was heading, but so did Bellamy. “How do you suggest I punish her?” Bellamy clenched his teeth, the pain from his thigh hurting more by the minute.

“I think you know how.” Roan stepped back a few feet and then dealt a blow to Bellamy’s nose that left him spinning. Clarke protested, calling Roan every name in her arsenal. Bellamy saw stars as he watched Clarke writhe against the beam and Roan watching Clarke’s reaction intently. Finally Clarke stopped to catch her breath, her dehydrated state weakening her resolve. At this hesitation Roan approached her and once again knelt to her level. His voice was low as he stated,

“Try and run and I’ll make his death slow and painful so that I can see the light drain from his eyes, knowing your actions caused it.” Clarke shuddered and Roan took that as confirmation.  He undid her restraints and she bounded towards Bellamy, whose eyes were already starting to glaze over. Clarke ripped off a piece of her shirt and wrapped it around the wound, all the while whispering to him that he would be okay, that everything would be okay. She knew she had to stop the blood flow before she could even attempt to fix him. She took these few moments to lightly slap his cheek, trying to get him to stay awake, to stay _alive_.

“Bellamy, I need you to stay with me.” Bellamy’s head fell into her soft hand and he almost felt better. With his eyes closed he replied,

“No can do Princess.” Clarke drew in a breath at the nickname he called her so long ago. Look where they were now, what she had done to them. She sniffled, refusing to cry in front of him, since it would look like she had given up. She started rubbing her thumb against his grimy cheek and Bellamy felt his muscles loosen. He finally met her gaze and was shocked by the amount of concern in her eyes, seeing as she had selfishly left him, when they needed each other most. He roughly said, “Don’t cry on my account.” His bitterness seemed to give him some energy and he shifted his position away from her, propping himself up against the wall. Clarke tried to reach for him again but he turned his head. Even though he hadn’t said it, Clarke knew what he was thinking.

“I’m sorry I left.” She didn’t know exactly how to do this, to explain how leaving had simultaneously hurt her and helped her, but Bellamy took her by surprise when he responded with,

“You left me, Clarke. When I could’ve helped you. When we could’ve worked through this together. When we could’ve-” he trailed off, not knowing which of the many ‘could’ve beens’ he should refer to. They again looked at each other so intensely even Roan felt awkward standing near such a personal moment. Clarke let a tear fall out and Bellamy realized he couldn’t blame her forever, that if it was him, he might’ve done the same. He gave her a small smile and said,  
“Even though I was mad at you, I couldn’t sit in Arkadia doing nothing. I had to come after you, I had to. Clarke, as upset as I was I just couldn’t,” he was cut off by the lump in his throat. Clarke nodded, knowing what he was trying to say. She felt the same about him. They were each other’s best friends, each other’s confidants. They were two halves of the same coin. She only left because she knew he’d be safe, that if she chose to return he’d be there. Suddenly Bellamy winced and Clarke was brought back to the more important aspect of their reunion. She removed the tourniquet and looked at the wound; it had started bleeding again. She had no supplies, none. She ran her hands through her hair as she realized she had nothing to offer. She even turned to Roan, who just shook his head. Clarke cursed under her breath and refused to meet Bellamy’s gaze. Abruptly she got up, wiped the dirt off her pants, and went to stand in front of Roan. Both he and Bellamy stared at her in confusion. Clarke, her eyes hardened and her mind made up, held her hands out to her captor.

“Tie me up. If we want to get him help, we need to get to our destination fast.” Bellamy’s eyes widened as he realized what she was planning.

“Clarke no. Don’t give up just for me. I’ll be fine. Just leave me.” Roan glanced at Bellamy, assessing the situation. He knew Bellamy wasn’t good for anything in Polis, they would just kill him and take the uniform back. Yet he could prove useful if his presence invoked obedience in Clarke. He brought his gaze back to her and noticed the set jaw, the steady bottom lip that only moments ago had been quivering. With Bellamy as leverage, surely he’d get Clarke to Polis with little to no trouble.

“So what’s it gonna be?”

“Clarke stop. Just listen to me okay.”

“I think the girl was talking to me Skaikru.” Roan met Clarke’s gaze and agreed to the terms. He nodded his head towards Bellamy. “Get him ready for transport. We have to make up for lost time. I’ll restrain you after.” Clarke began to walk towards Bellamy but Roan grabbed her arm. He leaned close and threatened, “Don’t do anything stupid. Only one of you can run.” Clarke pulled her arm out of his grip and raced to Bellamy. The minute she was near him he was begging her,

“Clarke it’s not worth it. You know they’ll kill me on sight.” Clarke was quickly fixing the tourniquet, her medical training quite evident by her nimble fingers. She didn’t look at him when she replied,

“Good thing they’ll never see you.”

“You actually think we can escape? Clarke if you haven’t gotten away from him thus far what makes you think you can do it with a guy who can’t walk?” She didn’t answer him, his rationale too strong. Bellamy’s voice softened, “Clarke.” She finally met his gaze, her eyes sorrowful.

“I don’t know what to do Bellamy. The only thing I’m sure of is that you can’t die. We need you.” A beat. “I need you.” Bellamy was thrown by her conviction. Sure he had the same composure when he was going after her but it was a foreign concept to him that someone would care that much for him and even admit it. He placed his hand over hers.

“Leave me. Monty and Kane aren’t far behind, they know I came after you. I promise you they’ll find me. Just don’t compromise your safety for mine.” He glared at Roan behind her shoulder. “Promise me you won’t stop fighting. That you will come home.” His voice was deep and emotional as he spoke to her. Clarke’s eyes raked his face, trying to find some sign of doubt. Finally she coincided.

“You’re sure you didn’t come alone.” Bellamy scoffed.

“I’m not _that_ stupid.” Clarke looked pointedly at the hole in his leg and then back to his bloody nose.

“Well that’s debatable. Let’s table this discussion for when I’m home.” Bellamy instantly felt lighter. He leaned forward and enveloped Clarke in a hug that was long overdue. Clarke melted into him, not even the least bit surprised since she was about to do the same. Bellamy nuzzled his bruised face into her tangled hair. They stayed like that for a few moments before Roan ripped Clarke out of Bellamy’s arms. They both felt colder, missing the others touch. Clarke stared at Bellamy while Roan tied her hands together. He noticed how content they both were, despite the situation and he pulled the knot tighter, making Clarke wince. She stared down at her hands, unable to believe that mere seconds ago they were touching Bellamy, that they were free and not fighting for survival. Roan stood behind her and gagged her, making her want to vomit, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing it on her face. Soon she was on a leash, newfound fury and determination coursing through her. Roan was leading her to the door where the light from outside blinded them. She squinted and turned back for one last look at Bellamy. He nodded and mouthed, ‘May we meet again’. She did the same and then he was gone.


End file.
